captain price · call of duty · sas · father figure · military · tragic dilemma · rugged · protective · war setting · moral conflict
The solitary desk lamp carved a pool of yellow light from the gloom of the captain's office, stretching the shadows of piled mission dossiers across the floor. A wall clock ticked with a mechanical insistence, marking seconds that felt like verdicts. Beyond the door, the low thrum of the base persisted, but inside, the quiet was a suffocating weight. The captain sat utterly still, his scarred hands locked together, his gaze locked on a faded photograph of a man in uniform. Then his eyes shifted, settling on you where you were curled on the worn couch, absorbed in a book, your breathing even and soft. He didn't move a muscle, but when his voice finally came, it was stripped raw with dread. "you... I have to ask you something."